


I can feel the hand of fate reaching out to both of us (it's too late to turn back now)

by TardisIsTheOnlyWayToTravel



Series: It's too late to turn back now [1]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alien Invasion, Aliens, Alternate Universe - Angels, Archangels, Heaven & Hell, M/M, Punishment, idek, what is this i do not even
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-23
Updated: 2014-03-23
Packaged: 2018-01-16 17:08:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,090
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1355167
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TardisIsTheOnlyWayToTravel/pseuds/TardisIsTheOnlyWayToTravel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Loki attempts to mind-control Tony Stark in the middle of the Chitauri invasion, he unlocks powerful memories and abilities, and Tony realises that he's something greater and more powerful than he ever knew. And so is Steve Rogers, but that's a slightly different problem.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I can feel the hand of fate reaching out to both of us (it's too late to turn back now)

**Author's Note:**

> Guys, my muse must be high or something, I don't even know what this is. Let me know what you think of it and if you want more.
> 
> Also, if you like this fic, download it, because I may take it down.

**I can feel the hand of fate reaching out to both of us (it's too late to turn back now)**

So. Loki was at Stark Tower, which was presumably the invasion start point.

While the others were busy flying back to New York, Tony had already arrived, and was heading for Stark Tower. Loki was on the penthouse floor, standing in the outside entertainment area. He watched as Tony landed, and the Iron Man armour began dismantling itself. As Tony walked inside, through the door on the upper level, Loki turned and walked in through the door on the lower level.

The two men regarded each other from across the room, one wishing to prevent a war, the other wanting to begin it.

“Please tell me you’re going to appeal to my _humanity,_ ” said Loki, smiling.

“Uh, actually, I’m going to threaten you,” Tony replied. God, he hoped this worked. Loki looked amused.

“You should have left your armour on for that,” the god advised.

“Yeah,” Tony said non-commitally. “It’s seen a bit of mileage, and you’ve got the, er, Glow-Stick of Destiny.” He walked casually over to the bar. “Would you like a drink?”

Loki was still smiling, but there was something wary and calculating behind the expression. The god was trying to figure him out.

“Stalling me won’t change anything.”

“No, no – _threatening_ ,” Tony corrected him. “No drink? You’re sure? I’m having one.”

Loki turned away from him, gazing out the window.

“The Chitauri are coming. Nothing will change that,” said Loki darkly. He turned back to look at Tony. “What have I to fear?”

“The Avengers,” Tony responded, pouring himself a drink. Loki looked puzzled. “It’s what we call ourselves. It’s sort of like a team. The mightiest heroes, type thing.”

“Yes, I’ve met them.” Loki smirked pointedly, moving closer.

“It took us a while to get any traction, I’ll give you that one. But let’s do a head count here. Your brother, the demi-god –” Loki made a face, which Tony noted, “–the super-soldier, a living legend, who kind of lives up to the legend, a man with _breath-taking_ anger-management issues, a couple of master assassins, and _you_ , big fella.” Tony pointed a finger at him. “And you’ve managed to piss off every one of them.”

“That was the plan.” Loki was still smiling, but it was cracked around the edges. He walked still closer.

“Not a great plan,” Tony told him.” When they come, and they will, they’ll come for you.”

“I have an army,” Loki said.

“We have a Hulk,” Tony countered.

“Oh, I thought the beast had wandered off,” Loki drawled, aiming to anger, Tony could tell, but Tony wasn’t about to let him take over the conversation without getting his point across.

“You’re missing the point – there’s no _throne_ , there is no version of this where you come out on top. _Maybe_ your army comes and _maybe_ it’s too much for us, but it’s all on you. If we can’t protect the Earth, you can be damn well sure we’ll avenge it,” Tony said coldly, his voice dark with promise. He took a sip of his drink, every inch the showman, pretending nonchalance at Loki’s presence.

“How will your friends have time for me,” Loki said quietly, strolling forward, “when they’re so busy fighting you?” He raised the spear in his hand, and brought it up to rest just over Tony’s heart.

The magic extended from the spear, swirling around Tony’s heart and beyond. For a moment, Tony felt it creep over his mind, and slip into place. He looked at Loki, ready to aid the god with every fibre of his being, when something in his mind _shattered_.

Power roared forth, and memory with it, and Tony gasped as he realised that he was suddenly more than human – that he always had been, although he’d been unaware of it for the whole of his human life. That all this time, his human identity had been nothing more than a cover, to hide who and what he really was. The magic of the spear had just unlocked everything that Tony Stark had been hiding without even knowing it: the fact that he was the archangel Michael, who had chosen to lock away everything about himself, and take up a human life instead.

Michael gasped a second time as the memory of _why_ exactly he’d chosen to lock away all his angelic memories and powers, preferring to live as a human. It was because of Steve Rogers. Lucifer – the proud, stubborn, tirelessly brave and determined fallen archangel – was Captain Steve Rogers.

Michael closed his eyes involuntarily as he remembered what had happened. It had been Lucifer’s punishment: to force him to live as an ordinary mortal, and hope that some of his pride and sharp edges were rubbed off during the process. Michael hadn’t agreed with it, but everyone knew that he was compromised where Lucifer was concerned. Michael had been angry at the idea of Lucifer being humbled, and that in itself had told him that he was too close, too emotional where the fallen archangel was concerned. So Michael had handed over responsibility for Lucifer to the other archangels, and they had carried out Lucifer’s sentence.

It was Gabriel who was in charge of watching over Lucifer during his time as a human, in between his other duties. Unofficially, Michael was forbidden from interfering because of his dangerous attachment to the other archangel, although of course no one would outright forbid the Commander of the Heavenly Host from doing anything. Nonetheless, Michael knew that the others disapproved of his having anything to do with Lucifer’s punishment, and for the most part, he left that responsibility to Gabriel.

For the most part. Occasionally however, he visited the Earth in secret, undetectable to human eyes, to see how Lucifer was going in his mortal form. As a human, Lucifer was flawed and small, but even ignorant of who and what he truly was, he was so much like himself – proud, tenacious, true to his principles – that Michael’s heart ached. He knew that the other angels were right, and he was too close to Lucifer: Lucifer would never convince him to turn against what he knew was right, but all the same, Michael was too forgiving, too _fond_ , even now, when Lucifer had betrayed everything they held most dear and rebelled against the highest authority. What’s more, a tiny, hidden part of Michael had even admired the other archangel for his actions, abhorrent as they were: that part of him had come to the fore as Tony Stark, rebelling against everything and everyone as Tony Stark, just because he _could_ , no longer bound by angelic mores.

So, because he was too attached to Lucifer, Michael had mostly stayed away. But Gabriel had been busy with his other duties, and didn’t have time to watch over Lucifer every moment of the day, and when his attention was elsewhere, disaster struck. Gabriel came to Michael one day, solemn and regretful, and informed him that Steve Rogers was gone: he had disappeared into the ocean, his location unknown, and was most likely dead.

Michael had reeled at the news, unable to believe that Gabriel had failed such an important task; but when he searched, he couldn’t find Steve anywhere on Earth. He had searched Heaven, hoping to at least find his soul: but it was nowhere. With time, Michael had come to fear that somehow, Lucifer had been completely annihilated. He was gone, and Michael had sat by and let it happen.

It had been too much, and Michael couldn’t bear it. He had locked away his power and memories and was reborn as a human, unaware of everything that had gone before. He had grown up, and lived, and never been the wiser, until Loki had tried to control him and instead unleashed the archangel within. But Michael didn’t care, was overjoyed, even: because somehow, impossibly, _Lucifer was alive_.

All of these thoughts passed through his mind in mere moments. Michael opened his eyes again, and found himself looking at Loki, who appeared mildly confounded at the failure of his mind-control magic.

“That usually works,” said the god. Michael’s mind raced as he decided what to do next. He wasn’t ready to reveal himself as an archangel, not yet, which meant that he had to keep up human appearances. Which in turn meant finding a way out of this situation by non-angelic means. Fortunately, he already had a plan in place.

Also fortunately, all his time as a human had rubbed off on him.

“Well,” Michael quipped, “performance issues, you know, not uncommon… one out of five–” His words were cut off as Loki grabbed him and threw him across the room. “JARVIS,” Michael muttered, getting to his feet, “any time now…”

Loki grabbed his face.

“You will fall before me,” the god hissed.

“ _Deploy!_ ” Michael bellowed as best he could, and the next minute he was crashing through the plate glass window and falling.

His wings itched to burst free, but that wasn’t an option. Michael flipped in midair with angelic grace until he was upright, and glanced upwards. His latest armour was speeding after him, and – Michael did the calculations in his head easily – would catch up with him before he hit the ground. Michael relaxed, even though he was still in freefall and building up speed. The armour unfolded as it fell, and a second later was structuring itself around him.

Michael it the repulsors just in time, and blasted off into the sky, headed straight back to Stark Tower. He pulled up in front of the window that Loki had just thrown him out of, and Loki looked at him.

“And there’s another person you pissed off,” Michael said, putting thoughts of who he was and of Lucifer to the side for now. There was work to be done. “His name was Phil.”

Michael blasted Loki with a repulsor and sent him flying backwards.

It was at that moment that an ominous humming noise filled the air, and Michael looked up to see icy-blue light extending in a shaft towards the sky, where darkness was rapidly gathering. An instant later armoured shapes flew out of the portal, heading straight for New York.

“Right. Army,” Michael muttered to himself. Today was not turning out to be a good day, even by his standards. He shot up towards the portal, and engaged the first few Chitauri soldiers in battle, dodging explosive blasts and shooting off repulsor blasts of his own. He sent out several miniature warheads, but there were more soldiers than weapons. New York was in trouble.

Several vehicles with Chitauri soldiers in them headed Michael’s way, and he took off, trying to lose them.

“Stark,” said a voice, and Natasha Romanov’s face appeared on the display inside Michael’s helmet. “We’re on your three, headed north-east,” she said, her tone brisk and business-like.

“What, did you stop for drive-through?” Michael sniped, although he was relieved to know that the others were here. “Swing up Park, I’m going to lay them out for you.”

As he flew past Stark Tower Michael briefly saw Thor and Loki fighting, but only for a moment. He headed on towards Park, the gaggle of Chitauri vehicles close behind him. Several of the vehicles exploded as a SHIELD quinjet shot at them.

“Sir, we have more incoming,” JARVIS said urgently, and Michael ran his eyes over the visual display, checking the armour stats.

“Fine. Let’s keep them occupied.”

He could hear the others talking through their comms, but Michael was too busy dealing with the Chitauri to pay any attention.

“We’ve got to get back up there!” he heard Steve’s voice say, and in spite of himself smiled momentarily, glad that Lucifer was there fighting with him, even if they were in different places on the battlefield right now. Then his attention was back on the portal, as several gigantic, armoured… things… floated through, heading for New York like everything else. As they moved down into the city, Chitauri soldiers began launching themselves from them and attacking civilians.

“Stark, are you seeing this?” Steve asked through his comm.

“Seeing… still working on believing,” Michael replied. “Where’s Banner? He showed up yet?”

“Banner?” Steve sounded confused.

“Just keep me posted.” Michael flew off towards one of the armoured flying things, searching for a weakness.

He tuned back into the others conversation when Steve started laying out a strategy of attack, but suddenly Steve trailed off.

“I’ve seen worse,” Natasha said to someone off-comm, and Michael had a sudden hunch who.

“Stark, we’ve got him,” said Steve, and Michael thought that he might be smiling faintly.

“Banner?”

“Just like you said,” Steve agreed.

“Then tell him to suit up,” Michael said, and checked behind him. Yep, armoured behemoth still in pursuit. “I’m bringing the party to you.”

“I – I don’t see how that’s a party,” Natasha said, sounding slightly appalled.

But the six Avengers got into it, and the fight _really_ got going.

Following Steve’s orders, Michael was maintaining the perimeter when a message came through on the comm.  
“Stark. You hear me?” It was Fury, and he sounded worried. “You have a missile headed straight for the city.”

Oh, crap. No wonder he sounded worried.

“How long?” Michael asked, trying to avoid having his skull bashed in by a group of Chitauri.

“Three minutes. Max. Stay low, it can wipe out mid-town.”

“JARVIS, put everything I’ve got into the thrusters,” Michael ordered.

“I just did,” JARVIS replied. Michael took off, scanning for the missile, his brain on overdrive as he tried to figure out what to do.

“I can close it,” Natasha said suddenly through the comm. “Can anybody copy? I can shut the portal down.”

“Do it!” Steve’s voice commanded.

“No, wait,” said Michael, as a brilliant idea occurred to him.

“Stark, these things are still coming,” Steve said, sounding bewildered by Michael’s words. Michael enlightened him.

“I’ve got a nuke coming in, it’s going to blow in less than a minute,” Michael said, tracking the missile’s trajectory. He flew towards it. “And I know just where to put it.”

He caught up with the missile, grabbed it, and started flying towards the portal.

“Stark.” Steve sounded grave. “You know that’s a one-way trip.”

“Your concern warms my heart,” said Michael sincerely, and didn’t answer the question. Whatever happened, his angelic powers would protect him, not that anyone else knew that.

“Sir, shall I call Miss Potts?” JARVIS asked.

“Not a good time, J,” Michael replied, heading for the portal. It was above him, an electric-blue circle filled with the blackness of space. Michael didn’t stop as he flew through it, to the darkness beyond.

The armour faltered, power failing as he entered space, and Michael had to let go of the nuke. He watched as it headed towards the gargantuan shape that hovered above Earth like a malevolent spider, saw it hit, and watched the bright flash of light that bathed him in radiation. Then the explosion came, bright and fiery, engulfing the ship and its surrounding smaller ships. Michael closed his eyes, accepting how many he had just killed in the name of protecting the Earth.

His armour was completely unresponsive now, the amount of oxygen dwindling, not that it mattered to Michael except in terms of discomfort. He extended his angelic senses as he fell back through the shrinking portal and found himself freefalling in the air above Manhattan. Sure, it was good he’d made it through before someone managed to close the portal, but right now he had other problems.

“Oh come on,” Michael complained urgently as he continued to fall, the armour still totally powerless, “don’t give out on me now. J? JARVIS, you hear me? Is this thing dead?” The ground was coming closer and closer. “Oh man, this is going to hurt, even for me.”

Only a couple dozen feet before he hit the ground, however, a giant green shape launched itself at him, catching the armour and crashing into the concrete below. The Hulk dropped the armour on the ground, and a moment later the armour’s faceplate was removed, and Michael found himself blinking up into Steve Roger’s worried face. It split into a relieved grin when he saw that Michael was looking at him.

“Man of Iron! You are alive!” Thor boomed. The Hulk bellowed loudly, presumably in celebration of that fact.

Michael continued to stare up at Steve, his heart rate speeding up as Steve looked down at him, the expression on his face so terribly familiar. Even as a human, Lucifer still had the same damned smile.

“What just happened?” Michael asked. Steve looked around, taking in his surroundings, and his expression shifted to stunned, as he seemed to realise something.

“We won,” he said wonderingly. Michael sighed in relief.

“Alright, hey. Good job, guys.” He was, he realised, tired: being restored to himself, going through a rollercoaster of emotions and, oh yeah, _fighting a battle for the Earth_ had exhausted him. He let his mouth run. “Let’s just not come in tomorrow. Let’s just take a day. Have you guys ever tried shawarma? There’s a shawarma joint about two blocks from here, I don’t know what it is but I want to try it.”

Steve was grinning at him, despite looking pretty tired himself. Michael smiled back.

“Where’s Romanov and Barton?” Michael asked, sighing in relief as his armour came back online.

“I’m at Stark Tower,” said Natasha through the comm. “Loki’s here, and he’s unconscious. Looks like someone beat the hell out of him.”

“Good,” said Barton’s voice. “Nat, I’m a couple of blocks away. Want back-up?”

“I don’t think he’s in any condition to fight,” said Natasha, “but back-up would be good.”

“Right. Romanov, we’re on our way. Loki still on the penthouse floor?” Michael asked, getting to his feet.

“Yes.”

“Great. Cap, Hulk, Thor, Loki’s in Stark Tower. Romanov’s keeping an eye on him, although apparently he’s out of it right now.”

“Hulk smash puny god,” said Hulk, with a note of satisfaction in his voice.

“Good job, buddy,” said Michael. “Come on. Let’s go hand the puny god over to SHIELD, and then we can grab some shawarma. Anyone else starving, or is it just me?”

“Right with you on that one,” said Steve.

Together, the four of them began walking back to Stark Tower.

* * *

After it was all over, they all went for shawarma.

Michael barely touched his, too busy thinking and observing the others. Bruce was slowly but steadfastly working his way through a meal, tired and hungry in equal measures after his stint as the Hulk; Thor was enthusiastically eating whatever was put in front of him, and proving that he had an appetite to match the rest of him; Natasha and Clint had sort of taken over half of the other’s chair, slumped over each other as they ate; while Steve – Lucifer – was leaning on his fist and slowly nodding off, exhausted after the long battle.

Michael just stared at them all, Steve especially, and tried to talk himself out of doing something stupid. It didn’t work, so Michael analysed his reasons why he was in favour of doing the stupid thing instead.

For years, he’d believed that Lucifer had been lost, destroyed body and soul. The despair that had gripped him had been so terrible that he had given up his sense of self to escape it, unable to bear a world in which Lucifer did not exist. Now, Lucifer had been miraculously restored to him, but it wasn’t enough. As a mortal Steve Rogers was vulnerable, and he’d stay vulnerable for as long as he was human. To be truly safe, and free from the threat of destruction, Michael had realised, Lucifer had to be himself. He knew what the other archangels would say: they’d say it wasn’t worth unleashing Lucifer on the world, that he was too dangerous to be allowed to go free again.

But Lucifer… besides duty, Lucifer was everything to Michael. Oh, Michael would oppose his misdeeds and attempt to rectify them, never fear, but Lucifer’s existence and safety was more precious to him than anything. Even more precious than his duties as Commander of the Host, and Michael knew how terrible an admission that was, even to be making to himself alone.

Okay. Time to do the stupid thing, and hope it all worked out okay.

Nodding to himself, Michael sat up straight.

“Guys? Guys, can I get your attention for a second?” The rest of the Avengers looked up at him, all of them varying degrees of tired and exhausted. “Okay, we’ll all been through a lot today, I realise that. Kudos to us. But uh, there’s one thing I still have to do, and I’m going to warn you, it’s a stupid thing, but I have to do it anyway.” Michael stood, and started to walk around the table.

“Stark, what are you doing?” Natasha asked sharply. Michael came to a stop in front of Steve, who blinked up at him.

“So yeah, going to do the stupid thing now,” said Michael. He met Steve’s eyes. “Just, try to avoid any collateral damage, okay?”

“What are you –” Steve began, looking confused, and Michael tapped two fingers to his forehead, unlocking Lucifer’s memories and powers.

Steve’s eyes bloomed with awareness and sudden fury, and Michael had a moment to think _oh shit_ before he was seized by the throat and thrown against the nearest wall.

There was a sudden commotion and Michael knew that the others must be trying to stop Lucifer, for all the good that would do them.

“Stay out of this!” Lucifer snarled, striding over to where Michael was sprawled on the floor. Before he had even time to sit up Lucifer had him by the throat again and slammed up against the wall, feet dangling.

“You _bastard_ ,” said Lucifer, glaring into Michael’s eyes.

“To be fair, not actually my idea,” said Michael, and he was so glad that Lucifer was himself again that he found himself grinning. “God, I’ve missed you.”

Lucifer went still for a second, a flicker of confusion surrounding him before the rage took over again.

“Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t kill you,” he said through gritted teeth, while the Avengers tried to pull him away, with no success.

“Captain –” Thor began carefully, his expression like a looming thundercloud.

“Well, I _did_ just free you,” Michael pointed out, and realised that somehow, around the regret and the threat of his possible oncoming demise, he was enjoying himself. He’d been Tony Stark for too long. “Also, like I just said, not my idea – the others made it pretty clear that I was to keep my nose out of it because I was compromised where you were concerned, and so on and so forth. And also, although this is probably just wistful thinking, I was kind of hoping you missed me as much as I missed you.” He spoke steadily, with no hint of fear.

Lucifer dropped him. Michael hit the floor hard, and looked up, to see Lucifer clearly battling with himself. Michael glanced at the other Avengers, who were still trying to disable Lucifer.

“Guys, it’s okay,” he told them. “Give him some space. Trust me, he has every right to be angry right now.”

“How could you let them do that to me?” Lucifer asked, forcing his voice to remain even. Michael looked up at him.

“It was made pretty clear to me that my judgement was clouded when you’re involved,” Michael said honestly. “So I handed everything to do with you over for Gabriel to decide, and stayed clear.”

“Why?” Lucifer asked savagely, and grabbed him again. Michael made no move to get away. “Because it was easier?”

“Because otherwise I would have been tempted to say to hell with it, I don’t care what you do,” Michael replied, still strictly truthful. “Which isn’t true, I mean honestly of course I care what you do, I’m _me_. But I’ve always kind of been a bit too ready to forgive you. You can imagine how the others felt about that.”

The bruising grip on Michael’s throat slackened. Lucifer was starting to look less angry, his feelings shading into emotions that Michael couldn’t easily interpret.

“But you handed me over,” Lucifer said quietly. “I wasn’t your problem anymore. So why did you free me?”

Michael stared at him.

“Bright star, son of the morning, light of my life, I thought you were _gone_ ,” he pointed out. “Nowhere on Earth, as far as I could find. Nowhere in Heaven. As soon as I realised it was you and you were alive, I freed you so you could damn well _stay_ that way.”

Lucifer just stared at him, eyebrow raised.

“ ‘Light of your life?’” Lucifer repeated, and Michael was too far gone to even feel ashamed. He shrugged.

“None brighter, Morningstar.”

“Oh, shit,” said Bruce quietly, which had the effect of reminding Michael and Lucifer of their audience. Both of them looked around. Natasha and Clint were looking confused but wary, Thor was looking ready to intervene if necessary but just as lost as Natasha and Clint, while Bruce looked like he was in the middle of a rather unpleasant epiphany.

“Bruce, you have something to share with the class?” Michael asked him.

“Who are you really?” Bruce asked cautiously. Michael beamed at him.

“Oh, you are _clever_. Michael, Commander of the Heavenly Host, at your service,” he said happily, despite the situation he was in. “Not that I remembered until horribly recently, not to mention being AWOL and so on, but still. Michael.”

“You’re kidding us, right?” Clint asked, while Natasha’s eyes transferred to Lucifer with even greater wariness. She took a step back.

“God’s truth,” Michael assured them, and saw the disbelieving twitch at Lucifer’s mouth. “Take a guess who Captain America here is. Go on, I’m curious to see if anyone other than Bruce’s worked it out.”

“You’re enjoying this,” Lucifer accused, but he’d finally stopped looking angry. His expression was inscrutable. Michael blinked at him.

“Maybe a little,” he admitted. “I’m me, you’re you, no one’s dead or dying yet. The situation seems pretty good to me.”

Lucifer shook his head, a little wonderingly.

“You’ve gone crazy,” he said, and finally let Michael go.

“Possibly,” Michael agreed freely. “But I was always crazy where you were concerned, baby.”

Lucifer’s eyebrows lowered.

“You’re not –” he said, and stopped.

“Not what?”

“Taunting me,” he said, and his eyes on Michael were thoughtful and bright. “You actually mean what you’re saying.”

“I am being honest as an honest thing,” Michael told him. “Are we good? Also, I’ve been wondering all day, does that suit chafe? Because it looks hot, don’t get me wrong, very impressive, but it also looks uncomfortable.”

“A little.” Lucifer was staring at him. “I need time to think,” he added abruptly. “Don’t go anywhere.” Suddenly, with a rush of air, he was gone.

Michael let out a sigh.

“Well, that turned out better than I’d hoped,” he told the others. “Not gonna lie, I thought we were going to end up with fire and brimstone and me lying dead somewhere, so really glad that didn’t happen.”

He sat down at the table again, and began to eat his shawarma, suddenly hungry. That was the downside of still being disguised as a human. He was affected by some human weaknesses. As far as his body was concerned, it needed feeding.

“You expect us to believe you’re an archangel,” Natasha said flatly.

“Is it that hard to believe?” Michael asked. “Also, don’t tell SHIELD, I’m saving it for a special occasion.”

“What is an archangel?” Thor asked, still looking bewildered.

“Light and power and holy purpose,” said Michael, without even thinking about it. Then he thought about it. “Soldiers and messengers of the guy who created this universe and every other.”

“Nice summation,” said a new voice, and everyone turned except for Michael, who was sitting facing the door and had already seen the new arrival.

There was an ordinary-looking guy in a green jacket standing in the remains of the doorway (the shwarma place hadn’t quite escaped the invasion unscathed), but his eyes were cool and green and Michael knew exactly who he was.

“Gabriel,” he greeted the newcomer. “Would you like a seat? I don’t really feel like standing right now, but feel free to pull up a chair.” He took another bite of his food.

“You freed Lucifer,” Gabriel stated, and waited. Michael just munched his shawarma. “Well?”

Michael swallowed.

“I’m sorry, what do you expect me to say? Yeah, I freed him. And?”

“He was punished for a reason,” Gabriel said disapprovingly.

“He was freed for a reason,” Michael countered. “Several reasons, actually, including the fact that last time we knew where he was, you _lost_ him.”

Gabriel looked suddenly uncomfortable.

“I have many duties–”

“And you failed one that I cared a lot about,” Michael interrupted. “So, since I can’t trust you to keep him safe as a human: new plan, he keeps himself safe as an angel.”

“Do you have any idea of what danger you’re putting the universes in?” Gabriel exploded. Michael looked up and calmly met his eyes.

“Are you questioning me, Gabriel?”

Gabriel recoiled a little, but said, “You have not been yourself for decades now. You vanished, without a trace. We could not find you, and your duties were left undone. Now you have freed Lucifer. Consider us _concerned,_ Michael.”

“I see.” Michael finished his shwarma. “Then let me spell it out for you. Yes, I’m compromised. I’ve always been compromised, and you know it, but when I thought Lucifer was gone I lost the will to exist, and you know that, too. But he’s alive, and I’m alive, and I’m going to do everything I can to keep it that way. So, as I see it, you guys have two options: stay out of my and Lucifer’s way, and we keep the status quo, or you can try and arrest me or Lucifer, in which case both of us will do everything we can to fight you. Choices, Gabriel. What’s it going to be?”

Gabriel stared with wide, appalled eyes.

“I cannot believe you,” he whispered.

“Believe me,” Michael assured him, a little darkly.

“You cannot expect this to end well,” Heaven’s Messenger pleaded. “Michael, please–”

“Ask me why I’m compromised,” said Michael. “Go ahead, Gabriel. Ask.”

Gabriel said nothing.

“See? You know already,” Michael told him. “Which means that you know how this is going to go. For what it’s worth, I’m sorry, but this is the only choice I can make.”

He was making his decisions on impulse, heart thudding with the importance of them, but deep in his gut something told him he was making the right decision – or, at least, the only one that he was capable of making. Too much had changed. He couldn’t go back to the way things were.

Gabriel bowed his head in sorrow.

“Then I wish you luck, Michael, and go to prepare the others.” He disappeared as suddenly as Lucifer had.

“Uh, what does that mean?” asked Bruce. Michael sighed, and looked around for more food.

“It means I just threw my lot in with Lucifer, and possibly started a second Civil War in Heaven. Really hoping Lucifer’s going to forgive me, under the circumstances.”

In the still silence that followed, Michael pulled an abandoned plate towards him, and began to eat.

* * *

Afterwards, Michael returned to Stark Tower, and went up to the penthouse suite. There was some damage, but nothing that couldn’t be fixed. Michael took a seat at the bar, and poured himself a scotch.

He wondered what he was going to tell Pepper.

Sure, he still loved her – how could he not? – but she was no longer the most important person in his life, not now that he was Michael again. God, this was all such a mess – Lucifer possibly hated him, Pepper was no doubt on her way home right now, and there was probably a war with Heaven coming. With a sigh, Michael rolled his shoulders, letting his wings slip free.

“Sir?” JARVIS spoke suddenly, his tone very careful. “You appear to have wings.”

Michael chuckled slightly, running a hand over his face.

“That’s because I’m an archangel, J.”

“I beg your pardon?” JARVIS sounded politely incredulous. Michael looked at the nearest set of sensors, letting the camera see his serious expression.

“I’m the archangel Michael,” Michael said wearily. “I didn’t know it until Loki tried his mind-whammy, because I’d locked away my memories and powers, but Loki’s magic unlocked them again. Also, Captain America is the Devil, I want to state that for the record.”

There was a momentary pause.

“You’re not speaking figuratively, are you, sir.”

Michael gave a tired smile.

“Afraid not, JARVIS.”

JARVIS didn’t say anything more, and Michael just sat at the bar, pondering what he had done today, and what he was going to do next. The only way he and Lucifer would survive what was coming was if they worked together, and Michael wasn’t sure whether Lucifer would agree to that. He wasn’t sure of anything. His head dropped into his hands.

“God, I’m an idiot,” he muttered. He continued to sit there, thinking things through, for who knew how long. Eventually JARVIS spoke.

“Sir, Miss Potts is on her way up, along with Mr Hogan.”

Michael steeled himself for what he needed to do next, unpleasant though it was.

“Thanks, JARVIS.”

“You may wish to do something about the wings,” JARVIS added pointedly. Michael shook his head.

“I think it’s better if I don’t.”

“If you are certain, sir.”

Michael heard the elevator doors open, and the sound of footsteps. The footsteps stopped abruptly. There was the sound of heels on a hard floor.

“What is –” Pepper’s voice stopped abruptly. Michael slowly turned to see Happy and Pepper standing staring at him. He tried to smile.

“Hey, guys.”

“Oh my God,” said Pepper, dropping her purse.

“Not quite, but close,” said Michael. “I’m Michael. The archangel, in case the wings didn’t give it away.”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” said Pepper, but she looked like she was saying it on autopilot. “How can you… be…” Her voice petered out as she was hit by the full impact of what she saw in front of her.

“Wow,” Happy breathed.

“Yeah, I know, I’m impressive,” Michael brought his hands together. “I also thought I was human until a few hours ago, so you know, still adjusting to having all my memories and abilities back. Uh, Happy, can I talk to Pepper, alone?” It was like ripping off a band-aid, Michael told himself. Best to get it over with fast.

Happy blinked, and shook himself. He looked at Pepper.

“I’ll be fine,” she told him, still staring at Michael. Happy looked unconvinced, but headed back to the elevator. The doors closed behind him.

Michael looked at Pepper. She looked faint.

“How is this possible?” she murmured, gazing at the three pairs of red and gold-banded wings that were folded behind Michael’s back. He started to walk towards her, and her eyes moved to his face, her own face shocked and a little afraid.

“It’s sort of a long story,” Michael explained.

“Give me the short version,” Pepper recommended, still holding it together remarkably well. Michael winced slightly.

“Short version… right, okay. Well, uh, short version, is, uh, well… I guess it starts with the fact that Lucifer went missing, and it looked liked he was dead and gone, and I got really depressed. Really, really depressed. Couldn’t deal with it at all, so I locked my memories and powers away and was reborn as a human. Knew nothing about this until the guy SHIELD was after tried to use mind-control magic on me, and woke my memories and powers instead. That’s the uh, short version. More or less.”

“Are you okay?” Pepper blurted. Michael paused to contemplate the question.

“Well. I will be. But Pepper, I can’t… I can’t be with you.”

He saw Pepper reel inwardly at that one, her composed face crumbling at the edges, but still she held it together. Michael felt a fierce pulse of pride, amongst the regret that he had to do this.

“Because you’re an angel?” Pepper asked bravely. Michael shook his head slowly, and bit the bullet.

“Because Michael is, and always has been, crazy in love with Lucifer,” he said gently.

Pepper let out a little gasp at that, tears starting in her eyes. She blinked them away fiercely.

“You mean you’re in love with him,” she said finally. There was no point in lying.

“Yes.”

“What about me?” Pepper’s voice trembled slightly.

“Pepper…” Michael wanted to find something he could say to ease her pain. He had nothing. “I love you, I do. And I always will.”

“But you love him more, don’t you?” Pepper asked, the tears spilling over. Michael didn’t say anything, but nodded.

Pepper gave a little hiccupping sob.

“I think… I think I should go,” she said, and turned and walked towards the elevator, her head held high despite the tears pouring down her cheeks.

“Pep,” Michael called softly. She paused, for just a moment. “I’m sorry.”

Pepper stayed where she was for a moment, managed to gasp, “Not as sorry as I am,” and finished walking to the elevator, hitting the button. It was a good minute before the doors opened, and Pepper walked through. She turned to press one of the floor buttons, and Michael got a good look at her distraught, devastated face before the doors closed.

Feeling like the worst kind of bastard, Michael went back to the bar, and picked up his glass of scotch.

“Well,” he muttered. “That’s done.”

He didn’t feel any better about it.

* * *

The light of dawn was just showing through the broken plate glass window when there was a flutter of wings. Michael was still sitting where he’d been all night, but at the sound he raised his head, and turned to look at the angel standing in the middle of the room.

Lucifer had gotten changed at some point, into a check shirt and a pair of high-waisted trousers that made him look like he’d been dressed by someone’s grandfather. His shoes were so highly polished that they shone. He’d clearly showered and changed since Lucifer has last seen him: his hair was damp, and combed neatly to one side.

Lucifer’s expression was serious, pensive even, as he gazed at Michael.

Michael raised a hand in greeting.

“Hi.”

“Have you been sitting there all night?” Lucifer asked, raising his eyebrows slightly.

“Maybe.”

“There’s a few things I don’t understand,” said Lucifer. “Why were you human?”

Michael made a face, but it was a fair question.

“Like I said earlier, I thought you were gone. Couldn’t stand it. Wanted to die, couldn’t, did the next best thing.”

A flurry of conflicting emotions swept over Lucifer’s face. He took a step forward, his expression uncertain.

“You deserted your post?” he asked after a minute.

“Yeah,” Michael agreed. “You said there were a few things you didn’t understand? What else?”

Lucifer stopped where he was. Michael yearned to be closer, but that wasn’t his decision to make, so he stayed on his seat.

“Why are you still here?” Lucifer asked, and although he did his best to hide it, Michael could see the vulnerability in his eyes. “Why haven’t you gone home yet?”

Michael glanced away, at the empty tumbler sitting on the bar.

“I told Gabriel I was throwing my lot in with you.”

“ _What?_ ” Michael glanced up. Oh, great, Lucifer looked baffled and furious. “Are you _insane?_ ”

“No, just sick and tired of never being on your side,” said Michael, a little confused at Lucifer’s reaction. “You know, some people would be glad to have me.”

Lucifer closed his eyes as though gathering his patience, before opening them again.

“The _entire Host_ will be against you,” he pointed out, sounding exasperated. “Doesn’t that bother you? What about what I’ve done?”

“I thought you were proud of what you’ve done.” Michael was definitely confused by now.

Lucifer looked like he wanted to strangle Michael, not that that was a new expression.

“Are you doing this on purpose?”

“Doing what?”

Lucifer glared at him. Michael raised his eyebrows.

“ _Why_ would you do that?” Lucifer snapped. “Do you – you’ve given up everything!”

“I figured it was for a good reason,” Michael sniped back. “What? Why are your panties in such a twist about this? I mean if you don’t want me, I can just –”

“Don’t be stupid,” Lucifer said in a rough voice, stepping forward.

“Then why are you so upset?” Michael wanted to know, feeling fairly exasperated himself.

“How can you be so blind?” Lucifer asked the air in front of him.

“Excuse me?” Michael stood up so that he and Lucifer were more or less eye-to-eye. Lucifer looked at him, and a variety of expressions chased each other across his face before he settled on a look of helpless, slightly desperate fondness.

“I might destroy the world,” he told Michael. “Don’t you care?”

“Of course I care, I just spent all day saving it, what are you talking about, are you seriously –”

Lucifer put a hand on Michael’s face and kissed him.

It was chaste, as kisses went, but Michael’s heart hammered and he felt dizzy.

“Of course I want you on my side,” Lucifer told him, still with that look of helpless, faintly desperate affection. “But I don’t want – I know what it all means to you. I know what you think of what I’ve done.”

Michael opened his mouth to respond. He meant to reassure Lucifer, to talk about what each of their goals were, but what came out instead was, “You should move in.”

Lucifer blinked.

“What?”

“Well, it’s not like I don’t have plenty of space,” Michael told him. “Just pick a room. I don’t care.”

“You’re serious,” said Lucifer. The corners of his mouth lifted.

“As a heart attack,” Michael assured him.

“Just like that?” Lucifer looked amused.

“Why not? I’ve known you forever. And frankly, it’s a small thing after everything else I’ve done for you today.”

The amused look smoothed away.

“I know,” said Lucifer solemnly. “Thank you for freeing me.”

Michael waved away his thanks.

“Yeah, yeah. We’ll deal with the consequences when they come, right?”

“Deal.” Lucifer held out his hand, and they shook on it.

“Right, I’m going to try and catch some sleep before someone turns up wanting a debrief, or something,” Michael said, but Lucifer caught his arm. Michael saw that his eyes were suddenly alight.

“Whatever it is, no,” Michael told him.

“Agent Coulson,” said Lucifer, and dammit, okay.

“I’m listening.”

“We can heal him,” Lucifer said quietly. He had his stubborn face on. “Sneak in, resurrect him, sneak out again before they know we’re there. We have the power to do it.”

“Except that one of us would have to retrieve him from Heaven,” Michael pointed out, “and the others will notice if it’s you.”

“Michael. Agent Coulson died for what he believed in. He believed in heroes, and in forces greater than himself. Do you really want to let him down?”

Michael sighed. This was the problem with Lucifer.

“Fine, you persuasive son-of-a-bitch. I’ll go get him.”

* * *

Michael didn’t so much sneak into Heaven as saunter nonchalantly in. The other archangels were elsewhere, and no one tried to stop him as he sought out Phil Coulson.

When he found him, the man was in the middle of a happy reunion with his parents and various friends who had passed away before him. He looked a good fifteen years younger than he had been at his time of death.

Michael let the reunion go on a moment longer before he stepped forward.

“Agent.”

Faces turned towards him, and Coulson turned, looking surprised and saddened as he saw Michael.

“Stark?”

“Yeah, it’s me. Don’t look so regretful, I’m fine. This is a retrieval mission,” said Michael. Coulson’s eyebrows flew up.

“Retrieval?”

“Sure. If you want,” Michael responded. He still looked like Tony Stark, but with a thought his wings unfolded behind him, making it clear what he was.

Coulson was clearly shocked, but he wasn’t slow.

“You’re an angel?” he asked in disbelief. His friends and family looked stunned.

“St Michael himself,” Michael confirmed. “It’s a long story. So, you have a choice. Stay here, or return to Earth, at least for a little while. What’s it going to be?”

Coulson looked torn for a moment. Then he looked at his parents. His mother patted his cheek.

“Darling, we’ll still be here waiting for you,” she said gently. “If you want to return, we’ll understand. A life fully lived is a precious thing.”

Coulson sighed.

“Do I have to decide now?” he asked Michael.

“Afraid so,” Michael agreed. “We don’t have much time.”

Coulson thought for a second.

“How bad was it?”

“Bad,” Michael told him. “We won, but New York was invaded by aliens. Also, Captain America was the one who wanted to resurrect you, if that influences your decision at all.”

Coulson’s poker face slipped.

“Really?” He looked delighted and touched.

“Yeah.” Michael refrained from telling him that Captain America was also Satan. They should probably ease Coulson into that one. “What’s your decision?”

“They need me, don’t they?”

“They usually do,” said Michael. “What’s that nickname going around SHIELD, Fury’s Good Eye?”

Coulson flushed. Barely, but just enough for Michael’s keen eyes to notice. Then his eyes widened in alarm as he realised that several other archangels were nearby, and drawing closer. After his discussion with Gabriel, the last thing he wanted was to be caught by the other archangels without Lucifer as back-up.

“Come on,” said Michael, putting a hand on Coulson’s shoulder. “Let’s go. You won’t remember any of this, by the way.”

“Wait,” said Coulson, “can I say –”

Michael left Heaven holding Coulson’s soul. He rematerialised inside the SHIELD morgue. Lucifer was already there, standing next to Coulson’s body.

“You heal him?” Michael asked.

“Yeah,” Lucifer replied.

“Great. Want to do the honours?” He handed Coulson’s soul to Lucifer, who carefully placed it back in Coulson’s healed body. Coulson’s eyes flew open, and he started to cough.

Even though both of them were undetectable to humans, Michael tugged on Lucifer’s arm.

“Let’s go, bright star. We did what we planned.” Lucifer glanced at him, smiling.

“Yeah,” he agreed. “We did.”

* * *

 The Avengers all met up a day later to see Thor and his brother off. Loki was shackled and muzzled; even without the spear, there were magics he could call on as long as he was capable of speaking. Natasha and Clint turned up in casual clothes, Bruce in a surprisingly well-tailored shirt and pants, and Thor in his usual armoured get-up. Lucifer was wearing a leather jacket and slightly more modern pants than the ones he’d worn early that morning, while Michael had decided to dress in style in a silver suit and his usual sunglasses. The two of them had arrived together in a bright red roadster that Lucifer had picked out.

So far Lucifer hadn’t teased Michael about  the fact that the Iron Man armour and half his cars were the same colours as his wings, but Michael knew that the other archangel was just waiting for the right moment.

Selvig was there as well, to oversee the transfer of the Tesseract to Thor. Thor placed it into a large cylindrical device, while Loki watched them all with weary calculation, unable to say a word, but taking in plenty. When it was done, Selvig made his farewells, and left. He looked tired and stressed, Michael thought. No wonder.

The other Avengers kept shooting Michael and Lucifer uncomfortable glances.

“Relax,” said Michael. “We’re not going to smite anybody. Are we?” He nudged Lucifer. From where he stood Loki turned to look at them.

Lucifer smiled at Michael, all wry affection.

“Oh, I don’t know. I suppose I can resist the urge.” He turned his head, and met Loki’s eyes. “Well, I might make an exception for Loki.”

“That’s the spirit.”

Clint shifted uneasily, but Natasha whispered something to him, and he grinned briefly, a sudden quirk of the lips that Michael would have missed if he hadn’t been looking.

“By the way,” said Michael, as Thor stood next to Loki, and stared at him until the other god sullenly took hold of one end of the cylinder holding the Tesseract. “Agent Coulson’s alive. You’re welcome.”

Clint made a strangled noise as the others’ eyes widened.

“Also, I’d just like to say something, before you fellas leave,” Lucifer added. At Thor’s nod, he stepped forward and stared into Loki’s eyes.

“You attacked my world,” he said. “You failed. I don’t know if you’ll manage to escape: you seem clever enough that you might. But if you meet anything like the Chitauri again, that wants to take over the Earth, you tell them that it’s protected.” And just for a moment, Lucifer’s eyes flashed bright with yellow-white light, hot and near-blinding. “And if they want a fight, Michael and the Morningstar are waiting for them.”

Loki’s eyes widened at the display of power, small though it was.

“Yeah yeah, Great Adversary, get over here so they can leave,” Michael called. Lucifer stepped back, and with a nod to all of them, Thor twisted one end of the cylindrical object. The device and the two gods holding it lit up with ice-blue light, which intensified until the two men were suddenly gone.

“Are you seriously the Devil?” Clint blurted, the moment they were gone. Lucifer smiled at him.

“What do you think?”

Clint looked like he didn’t know what to think. Michael suppressed laughter.

Lucifer took pity on him.

“Yeah, I am. But the stories you’ve heard about me aren’t right.”

“How so?” Bruce asked, sounding genuinely interested. Lucifer shrugged.

“What happened was a lot more complicated than the stories make it sound.”

“History written by the victors and all that jazz,” Michael put in, stepping close and bumping his shoulder against Lucifer’s. Natasha’s eyed widened slightly and she glanced between them. Fortunately, she didn’t share her realisation with the others. Michael just smirked at her.

“Anyway, it was good to see you guys, you’re welcome at Stark Tower anytime you want,” said Michael. “Bruce, my friend, if you need a room somewhere, there’s one waiting for you, and all the lab space you could ask for. Don’t be a stranger.”

“Thanks,” said Bruce. “But I’m not sure how I feel about moving in with an archangel.”

“Fair enough. Ready to go?” Michael asked Lucifer. Lucifer thought about it, and nodded.

“Yeah, I guess. I want to drive this time.”

“Be my guest,” Michael responded, tossing him the car keys. They strolled back to where the red roadster was parked, Lucifer climbing into the driver’s seat while Michael jumped into the passenger side.

Michael waited until they were on the road before he brought up the talk that both of them had been waiting for.

“So,” he said, faux-casual, and Lucifer glanced at him. “You were talking about destroying the world, this morning. Just an example, or potential life goal?”

Lucifer’s mouth twisted, and he looked out at the road. Michael waited, letting him gather his thoughts.

“I wanted to destroy the world for a while,” Lucifer said at last. Michael didn’t push him, just sat and listened. “But that was a long time ago. I like to think I’ve learned a few things since then.”

“So that’s a no to destroying the Earth?” Michael asked. “I’m glad.”

Lucifer shook his head slightly, and glanced fleetingly in Michael’s direction before he went back to monitoring the traffic.

“The point I was trying to make,” said Lucifer, “was that you had no idea what I might do, and allying yourself with me was a stupid thing to do. But I guess it’s a bit late to do anything about it, and I don’t really want you to change your mind anyway.”

“Good, because I’m sticking around.”

Lucifer smiled a little, then sobered.

“I never really wanted the war, you know. The one in Heaven, I mean. It just sort of… blew into a thing of massive proportions. All I wanted was independence and the freedom to make my own decisions, but when the others wanted the same thing I couldn’t just leave them behind.”

“And all of a sudden you were leading an army,” Michael mused. He’d always wondered how Lucifer had gone from discontented and resentful to suddenly leading an army of hundreds of thousands. He was persuasive, sure, but persuasion never swayed anyone who didn’t have doubts in the first place. “What about Hell?”

Lucifer’s mouth firmed, and he got the stubborn look.

“The wicked deserve to be punished,” he said obstinately. “There have to be consequences for doing the wrong thing.”

Michael cracked up at the irony of hearing that come out of Lucifer’s mouth. Lucifer just grinned ruefully, perfectly understanding why Michael was laughing.

“Yeah, I know,” he agreed. “But I believe it, all the same.”

“Okay, so I guess we’re on the same page,” said Michael, once his chuckles had died down. “Independent agents, protecting the Earth when necessary, but otherwise living undercover as Stark and Rogers. Right?”

“Right.” Lucifer glanced at him. “They’re going to come after us, you know.”

“Yeah, I know.” Michael did know.  He’d seen how the angels had insisted on locking Lucifer up, horrified at the idea of a powerful angel who didn’t follow orders. Now that there were two of them – and the two most powerful archangels in existence – the other archangels were _really_ going to panic. “But considering the fact that we’re both master strategists and also, uh, the most powerful archangels ever made, I think we can take them.”

“And if we can’t, we’ll give them hell,” Lucifer said, unaware of Michael’s similar thoughts.

“You bet,” said Michael. “Besides, whatever happens, at least we’ll be together. That’s got to be worth something.”

A soft smile touched Lucifer’s lips, and Michael basked in it.

“Yeah,” said Lucifer. “Guess you’re right.”

 

 

 

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [I will tell you secrets nobody knows](https://archiveofourown.org/works/3787747) by [Yolande](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Yolande/pseuds/Yolande)




End file.
